Je ne t'attendais pas
by Villelumiere
Summary: Kurt Hummel finally graduated from NYADA. He's a bit lost about his dreams and hopes and decides to take a two months long vacations in Paris to think about himself. On this summer, Kurt Hummel will discover Paris and Sebastian Smythe will discover love.
1. Résiste

Chapter 1 :Résiste

Kurt Hummel was _exhausted_. Just today, he had graduated from the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts. Time had passed since the first time he'd heard about the school. He had just left his family, who had come to New York to spend this important day of his life with him and Rachel, who had also just graduated with him. He went to his bedroom and lied down on his bed to enjoy his first moments of peace of the day before what was going to be a very short night. He was a little tipsy and dizzy on happiness.

He stared at the ceiling and nostalgia began to hit him. His memories wandered to his graduation from high school- how his life had changed! He would never have thought his life would be this different, compared to what he had imagined.

Back then, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go and with whom he wanted to spend his life. This confidence had unfortunately disappeared a long time ago. His four years at NYADA had been a blast, probably the happiest of his life, but it hadn't been quite what he had expected. He had sung, danced, acted, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to dedicate his life to his art anymore. He loved performing, but it just seemed almost _pointless_, and it was a difficult life to live. There was absolutely no job security, and even if he liked to think he was adventurous, Kurt just didn't want to spend his life wondering if he was going to have enough money to eat for the next month. And with all the very talented people he had met, or the ones who had people that could pull strings for them, he didn't think he was going to make it big anymore. In Lima, Ohio, he was unique but in New York City, he was just another person in a big, big crowd, and so was Rachel.

Four years ago, he was also certain that he was going to keep in touch with his friends from New Directions. But that was also a distant memory now. They had decided to meet twice a year in Lima but still, they grew apart. Some of them had gone to the West Coat for college, some had stayed in Ohio and some hadn't even attended college. Their lives were too different now; they were never going to be as close as they used to be. Kurt was still very close with those who were living in or near New York, which basically meant Rachel (Well, off course! They had even been roommates for a while but Rachel Berry, even if she was probably his best friend, was difficult to live with, so they had decided it was best for the two of them to live just near each other), Quinn (she liked to come visit them once in a while) and Artie (who was studying engineering in New York). And of course Finn who had stayed in Ohio because he was his brother. He had also found a few friends at NYADA, but the atmosphere was so competitive that they were more classmates or people to party with rather than real friends.

In his eighteen-year-old mind, there was no doubt that he was going to spend his college years in New York with Blaine, who was the love of his life, his one and only. The reality had been much harsher. They had stayed together for two years after Kurt's high school graduation. The first year had been difficult but they had managed it, somehow. They had Skype dates almost every night, with Blaine enthusiastic about everything Kurt told him about New York and about NYADA, and all the wonderful people he had met, setting his growing jealousy aside. They had visited each other, and their reunions were always intense and very tender. And then, on spring break, Blaine had dropped a bomb. They were both laying on Blaine's bed, reading and just enjoying each other presence when Blaine began to speak:

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Hun, I kind of have something important to say. But you have to promise to not get angry."

Kurt suddenly imagined the worse and shivered. Had he cheated on him? Oh God, he didn't want to be with him anymore, he had found someone else, someone better than him…

"Uh, I don't know if I can promise but I can try."

"Ok, uh, you know I've been researching colleges, and I think I've finally found one where I really want to go."

"That's great, honey, just tell me!" Kurt said, relieved.

"Uh, actually, that's the difficult part. I want to go to the University of San Francisco." Blaine said quickly, as if saying it faster would make the information less painful.

"What? You don't want to come to New York and be with me?" Kurt asked, already on the verge of tears.

"No, it has nothing to do with that, I just... I finally found something I'm actually excited to do, somewhere I'm eager to go," Blaine began to ramble. "I want to discover new things, a new life, and San Francisco must be so beautiful and so nice and lovely and Kurt, we managed for a year, maybe we can manage for more; I promise I love you and I want to be with you but I also don't want to give up on my dreams and I'm sorry, no, don't cry, if you cry I won't go, I'll stay with you, I promise…"

Kurt sniffled but managed to say, "Just give me some time. I'm going home, I'll call you tonight. I need some time."

Kurt was devastated at first, but he thought the whole afternoon through. Of course it was unexpected. When he went to New York for the first time and Blaine had said he would be on board, too, he had taken it for granted. But it was silly, of course, to think that Blaine didn't have dreams of his own. After thinking for hours, he realized he had to be supportive. He did love Blaine, and of course it would be difficult, but he had no choice. After all, he had left to live his dreams; it was only fair that he let Blaine do just the same. Ambition was really important to him, and he had felt guilty enough when Blaine had left Dalton to come to McKinley with him, he wasn't going to let that happen again. If he wanted to go to California, he would go.

That night, he called Blaine to apologize, and they both cried and finally fell asleep on the phone on promises of 'We'll call each other every night's, and 'We'll make it work's' and 'I love you's.

Of course, life hadn't been that easy. They both had a lot to do; Blaine was discovering a lot of things, just like Kurt had the year before. Their Skype dates began to go from one a day to one a week and they were growing apart, eventually. After eight months of managing, they decided to end it. They still loved each other deeply, but there was no passion, no excitement, no surprises anymore. They had become a boring couple that stayed together just for the sake of it, or out of habit maybe, and of course, at age 20, neither one of them wanted that for themselves.

They had stayed on good terms ever since, but sometimes they still felt awkward around each other. They had been each other's first everything and they couldn't erase their three years together. There was a French book about that, Kurt thought. "Love lasts three years". The first year was passion, the second was tenderness and the third was bore. That theory had been proven accurate for them.

Since then, Kurt had had a couple of boyfriends but neither of them had lasted very long; he had regularly hookups and one-night-stands but he didn't find love again. It wasn't a problem most of the time because he felt great on his own, but sometimes, he really wanted to feel committed again. He had experienced passion and he kind of wanted that back now.

To sum it up, Kurt Hummel felt like he wasn't really himself anymore; he was a little bit lost.

He was enthusiastic about only one thing right now: he was going to spend two months in Paris! He felt a little spark just thinking about it, the excitement he hadn't felt in a long time, the kind that told him he was about to fulfill a childhood dream. He had been saving money for four years for this trip. He had planned it with Blaine at the time; after they had both graduated college they were going to spend a summer together in Paris, the most romantic city in the world. After the breakup, the dream had stayed. He would go alone, a year before than what he'd planned, but he'd be going none the less! He had saved enough money to afford a nice hotel, some incredible dinners and most importantly, several shopping sprees. He had also perfected his French by taking extra classes, listening to of French music and watching French movies.

His favorite movie at the moment was "Les chansons d'amour" (Love Songs). It took place in Paris- there was love, heartbreaks, songs, complicated relationships and good looking men. He couldn't wait to see the places himself, to notice how stylish people were and to just enjoy the general atmosphere.

Kurt Hummel fell asleep on his made bed, fully clothed, and listening to French music.

_Si tu réalises que la vie n'est pas là_

_Que le matin tu te lèves_

_Sans savoir où tu vas_

_Résiste_

_Prouve que tu existes_

_Cherche ton bonheur partout, va,_

_Refuse ce monde égoïste_

_Résiste_

_Suis ton cœur qui insiste_

_Ce monde n'est pas le tien, viens,_

_Bats-toi, signe et persiste_

_Résiste_

_If you realize your life's not there_

_That on the morning you wake up_

_Without knowing where to go_

_Resist_

_Prove that you exist_

_Look for happiness everywhere, go_

_Refuse this selfish world_

_Resist_

_Follow your heart that insists_

_Fight, stand by it,_

_Resist_


	2. I've Got That Tune

Chapter 2 : I've Got That Tune

_I got the words _

_I got the tune_

_I've been rehearsing under the moon _

_But I got nobody to hear my song _

_So I'm hummin' to myself _

_I've got the place _

_I've got the time _

_I've got a lot of love words that rhyme _

_But I got nobody to hear my song _

Sebastian Smythe had just finished his fourth year of university with just one more to go. He was now walking home, happy to begin his summer vacation. _Home_. The word felt so right. He lived in a pretty big flat in the middle of Paris, near the Théâtre du Châtelet.

He had always wanted to live in Paris; he'd spent two years in a private school in Paris during high school and they had been the best years of his life at that time. So he simply decided to find out about the different possibilities in Paris. The system was way more complicated than in America, there were a lot of different schools and different diplomas, but he finally heard from "Grandes Ecoles". Those were the elite schools; they were what would be equivalent to an Ivy League. And there was one which specialized in politics. He automatically knew he had to study there. Of course, he would have to convince his father but he had some pretty good arguments.

"You know dad, this is going to be way cheaper than any university you can find in the US."

"You know money is no problem for us. Besides, you wouldn't be able to live on your own. You've always been spoiled and taken care of."

"_Please_ dad, do you really think that low of me? Don't you think I could take care of myself if I wanted to?" Sebastian replied sharply.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that. Won't you miss home? You're not going to be able to come here every month you know, barely once a year." His dad protested weakly.

"That's totally fine with me; you know I've always wanted to be independent. Besides, it's not like you're going to miss me." Sebastian stated quietly.

"Don't say that buddy, you know it's not like that, I only want your happiness."

That, Sebastian knew. He also knew his father loved him; he didn't doubt that. He just didn't show it very much. He was so caught up in his life that he hadn't really seen his only son grow up. And that wasn't bound to change for the next five years.

"But why go to Paris when you can go to Yale, Columbia or Harvard, all the internationally recognized universities that are here? You don't have to go to Europe," answered his father, sighing. Sebastian always had crazy ideas; he got them from his mother, surely.

"Did you know that since 1969, out of the 5 presidents that France had, 3 graduated from this school? And Nicolas Sarkozy also studied there but never managed to graduate? A third from the French government graduated from Sciences Po. Secretary General of the United Nations Boutros Boutros-Ghali also studied there, as well as many former managing directors of the IMF, well-known French authors, journalists, and even a professor of political science at Harvard. It has nothing to envy to Columbia or Yale." Sebastian knew that would be a decisive argument.

"You've got a point there." His dad stayed silent for a moment, thinking intently.

"Do you think you still speak French well enough to take classes in French?"

"I was in high school in France for two years dad. I haven't lost my fluency in one year. And 40% of the students in Sciences Po are foreigners so I won't be the only one even if I'm a little lost. I can find help there. Not that I will need it of course."

When his father sighed but didn't reply, he knew he had won the argument. He had to. Ever since he had found out about Sciences Po, everything else seemed unappealing. It was a perfect school in a perfect city. They were a lot of student associations, on every subject possible, from politics to wine by way of philosophy or LBGT rights. He knew he was going to love his life there, and he knew he wanted in.

_And what Sebastian Smythe wanted, Sebastian Smythe got. _

He had to work very hard because it was recruitment by competitive examination, but he succeeded. He mentioned it to everyone in Ohio, being his boasting self. He acted like it wasn't a big deal, like it was so easy for him and he knew it all along because after all, it was only an honor for them to have him in their school, wasn't it? But if he was honest with himself, he was a little ecstatic. And the excitement hadn't quite gone away. He was now getting a master's degree in International Relations, which could help him find a job in the United States if he ever wanted to come back. But for now he was very happy here, he hadn't regretted his choice once.

Paris was a dream city to live in. He didn't need a car, the transport network wasn't the best but it was still more or less practical and he discovered that he in fact loved walking.

People were obviously a lot more tolerant than in Ohio. He could live his life as a gay man without being bothered by anyone (not that he let himself get bothered, even in Ohio but it was still nice to know he hadn't to worry about his hookups being afraid to be seen by people they knew). Furthermore, he could hit on guys in non-gay bars and that was definitely a plus, because gay-bars were sometimes really shabby.

Guys were more fashionable than in most of the US and there were a lot less people in the closet. Maybe it was just an impression because he lived in an admittedly very cultured and very open-minded circle but even a few straight guys had admitted that they would want to sleep with a guy at least once in their lives, just to try. Sebastian was often that guy in the end. He was hot and used that quality well. He had had countless one-night-stands and that was fine by him.

He had tried the relationship thing, once, at the very beginning. During his first month in Paris, a quite nice guy had shamelessly flirted with him. He was a little taken aback at first because it usually was the other way around but he then decided that he could try it. Maybe in Paris it would be easier to be in a relationship? After a month of handholding, movie dates and kinky sex, the guy said he loved him. And Sebastian didn't do such things as "love". He had to break up and he put up with hookups ever since and that certainly didn't have him complaining. When it was just one-night-stand, people were a lot less shy about sex; all kinks were permitted, and there were very few that Sebastian wasn't into. It didn't make him a whore, in his opinion at least, just someone who had found his way to enjoy life.

And god, did he enjoy life in Paris. He was so happy that he had barely kept in touch with people back in Ohio. He skyped every now and then with his parents but that was about it. He hadn't had many friends as a child, and the best ones he had were those he made when he was in high school in Paris. He could not help but think the Warblers were pretty great guys but after all the crap he had put them into during senior year, he could understand that they hadn't particularly wanted to keep in touch with him. He had news by Facebook and that was enough.

Besides, he had found pretty awesome friends in Paris. People who were a lot more like him, snarky (Parisians were the worst), bitchy, sarcastic and judgmental but interesting, cultured, passionate and witty.

No, he definitely did not miss America, and especially not Ohio. Sebastian was not nostalgic or homesick, because Paris was his home now.


	3. Untitled 2

Chapter 3: Untitled #2

_Don't know many people in this town, _

_I don't care, I'm hardly settled down, _

_Anyone can see, _

_I'm a stranger here, _

_Don't have many reasons to have come, _

_To this place I've never been before, _

_I've walked along for days and took some time, to arrive, _

_Things get always better in the past, _

_But today, tomorrow, cannot last, _

_Anyone can see I'm a stranger here._

Two weeks after graduation, Kurt was ready to go to Paris. Rachel had insisted to take him to the airport and they were saying their goodbyes.

"Oh my God Kurt, you don't even know how jealous of you I am right now. You'll have to take, like, a thousand pictures everyday and we'll set a Skype date at least every week!" she exclaimed, almost more excited than him.

"Yes I will, you've already made me swear twice!" Kurt said with a sigh, but still smiling fondly at her.

"Ok, now I guess we really have to say goodbye. So I wish you a very nice trip, send me an e-mail when you've arrived so that I know you didn't die in a plane crash. Take care, and find yourself a cutie! You know how they say Parisians are all sweet and romantic…"

"I'm pretty sure that's only a cliché but thanks I guess."

"No it's not! Anyway, I'm gonna hug you now." This had become a tradition between them. In high school, Rachel had this strange habit to ask before she hugged people and even if she now knew it was fine to hug Kurt at any moment, she still asked, just like back then. She pulled him in a tight embrace. "I will miss you, Kurt. Don't forget to come back!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, Rach, I would miss your craziness too much anyway!"

He reluctantly pulled back. "I really have to go, now. I'll miss you, too."

He kissed her on the cheek and went away. By the time he passed the boarding gates, he was freer than he had in weeks.

He slept during most of the flight but woke up just before the landing and he had the pleasure to have a beautiful aerial view of Paris in the morning sunlight. Not that one could see much from the plane, it was mostly the fields around Paris than the town, but it was still dreamy.

"Nous n'allons pas tarder à atterrir, il est actuellement 9 heures du matin à Paris et la température extérieure est de 24 degrés Celsius. Nous vous souhaitons un bon séjour sur place et vous remercions d'avoir voyagé en notre compagnie."

Oh, how French sounded nice… He had understood the announcement but he had no idea how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, so he was thankful for the announcement in English that followed and informed him that it was 75 degrees outside. That was very good; he would be able to enjoy his first day in Paris just chilling on a café terrace or something.

It took about three hours to go to the hotel, between the waiting time for the luggage, the waiting time for the cab, and the time for the journey from the airport to the hotel, so Kurt was very pleased when he finally arrived. The receptionist told him that he had to wait until 2pm for his room to be ready, so he decided to go eat something in a nice café. According to his guidebook, he was right between le Marais (the gay district) and la Bastille (the former artisan area) so he decided to go to place de la Bastille first.

The weather was absolutely gorgeous, and even the sky was a different shade of blue than back home. He strolled, taking the time to properly look at the 19th century buildings with their lovely wrought-iron balconies. When he finally arrived on the place, he was stunned. Of course he recognized the column overhung by the golden genius he had seen in so many pictures and movies, but it was not quite like he had imagined. It was so crowded and just very lively. It was perfect.

He decided to stop in the Café des Phares, which was a literary café (he had seen that in the guidebook). He took a seat outside to properly enjoy the view and he was looking at the menu when he heard a well-known voice coming from his left side.

"Well well… If it isn't Kurt gayface Hummel!"

Kurt turned very slowly towards the person next to him and sighed deeply when there was no doubt whom that smirky face belonged to.

"Sebastian Smythe. _What_ are you doing _here_?" asked Kurt, already annoyed. It was more an acknowledging of his presence than a genuine question, really. He didn't want to know anything about Sebastian's life.

"I'm happy to see you, too! Did your years in New York make you forget the politeness basics? I'm sure this well-groomed hobbit of yours wouldn't be too pleased about that! Speaking of which, he doesn't seem to be attached to your hip anymore. Or did he become so tiny you can now put him in your pocket?"

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly satisfied with himself.

"I thought it would be clear, even for someone with a poor level of understanding of relationships like you that things can change in four years. I'm not with Blaine anymore."

"Well, that's interesting. Yet, these four years have done you good! You finally understand that the women's clothes section is not for you, don't you?" Sebastian asked, in a tone that was more playful than offensive.

"Just, go away Smythe. I would like to enjoy my first day here without being bothered by the unwanted presence of some high-school acquaintance." Kurt said with a tired voice.

"Oh, this is your first day here!" Sebastian's grin grew wider. "You probably don't know what to do tonight, do you? Wanna come see me perform with my band? I'm sure you miss my voice and my incredible stage presence more than you want to admit." He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Kurt.

_La mécanique ondulatoire, 9pm._

_Be there ;)_

"I'll see you tonight, then." He said, leaving the money for his coffee on the table before he started to go away. He was obviously walking slowly so that Kurt would check him out. And that worked! Kurt was definitely enjoying the sight. Of course, Sebastian chose this moment to turn around and wink at Kurt. His ego was definitely proportional to his beauty. But he was actually gorgeous; there was no denying it. And his arrogance was kind of sexy. Kurt stopped his train of thoughts when he remembered this was Sebastian Smythe he was thinking about. He shook his head and called the waiter to order a "salade niçoise". He put the piece of paper in his pocket, knowing he wouldn't need it.

After his meal, he headed back to the hotel to take a nap; time difference really was a bitch. He woke up a few hours later. He took the time to tidy up his stuff, open his laptop, check his facebook and send an e-mail to Rachel and his dad to assure them he had arrived without problem.

By the time he was finished, it was 8 pm and he definitely wasn't tired enough to grab dinner and go to bed. The thought of Sebastian's show was resting somewhere in the back of his head. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all? He was going to sing so it wasn't like they were going to spend time together; it would just be a nice first night out. At least he knew the music was going to be good! He could just take a look. No one could force him to stay anyway.


	4. Machistador  Oh La La

Chapter 4: Oh La La

Sebastian was concentrating before the show. He wasn't actually stressed but he was eager to see if Kurt would show up or not. He had not lied earlier. The four years that had passed _had_ been good to him; he was still delicate but less flamboyant, his clothes were a lot plainer (or so it seemed at least) and his face was more relaxed. He was totally hot and Sebastian always ended up with a hot guy in his bed on his show nights. Why not him after all? It had been a while since he last fucked an English speaker. And whilst French was very poetic, it just wasn't a language for sex.

His guitarist and best friend Guillaume interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Seb? C'est à nous!"

He got up, plastered his most flirtatious smile on his face, got on the stage, and began to sing.

_Je suis un missionaire de la drague je l'avoue (I'm a flirt missionary I confess)_

He immediately spotted Kurt who was leaning on the bar and detailed his look while singing. He was wearing a simple but very tight pair of jeans, a shirt with all sorts of beige with a classy jacket and a pair of brown boots. He really was gorgeous.

_Mais j'me foutais d'sa vie_

_Et surtout de son avis_

_Beaucoup moins de son envie_

_Tu veux pas… je reste en vie._

_(I didn't give a fuck about his life_

_Or about his opinion_

_But I did care about his wants_

_Don't you want… I stay alive.)_

He decided to look directly at Kurt for the rest of the song.

_Je suis un machistador_

_Et je crois qu'il m'adore_

_Non, non, non_

_Y'a pas d'error_

_Machistador_

_(I am a machistador_

_And I think he adores me_

_No, no, no_

_There's no error_

_Machistador)_

Kurt was stunned. Of course this motherfucker would sing a French song saying he was a man-eater. Of fucking course. And he had to look at Kurt right in the eyes the entire song while he was dancing like he was born to turn people on. If he wanted to play unfair, Kurt was definitely going to challenge him. After all, he hadn't hooked up in a while and the mojito he had just finished way too quickly for someone who had traveled for 8 hours was beginning to go on his head.

He went just in front of the stage and began to dance very sensually, at first alone and then with a random girl who seemed far too happy about it. He was swaying his hips behind her but he was only ever looking at Sebastian.

By the time his five songs were finished, Sebastian was half-hard. Thank god, concentrating on the lyrics had helped, he had discovered, because he wasn't sure he would have been able not to jump off the stage and rip Kurt's clothes off.

After doing his duty by talking to his band mates in the wings about how good the audience was, he disappeared searching for Kurt. When he finally found him, he took him by the wrist and brought him to the bar.

"4 shooters de Vodka Caramel, s'il vous plait."

Kurt grinned. "Somebody wants to get wasted tonight… Do you already want to forget my incredible dance moves?"

"Two of them are for you, silly! And for the record, I've always danced better than you."

The barman handed them their shooters and not even thirty seconds later the glasses were empty.

Kurt usually held his drink, but he was definitely drunk now. And Sebastian also felt very tipsy himself, though he would never admit it. They began to dance around each other, but Kurt wasn't as close to him as Sebastian would have liked him to be. When he saw Kurt looking around in concern, Sebastian understood the matter and whispered to him "We're in Paris, babe. No one's gonna bug us because we're two guys. Just relax."

Kurt sighed in relief and began to loosen up.

A girl's band was now playing.

Oh La La – Brigitte

_Approche toi, bébé_

_Approche toi_

_Accroche moi, des baisers _

_Accroche moi_

_(Come close baby_

_Come close_

_Catch me, kisses_

_Catch me)_

Kurt looked absolutely disheveled and that made him even hotter in Sebastian's opinion. He could also smell Kurt and even if he could not recognize his cologne it was definitely appealing. He closed his eyes to just feel the moment.

_Allez danse danse danse autour de moi_

_Et je danse danserai pour toi_

_(Come on, dance, dance, dance around me_

_And I'll dance, dance for you)_

Sebastian was sweating and his simple white shirt was a little stuck on his torso, revealing that Sebastian was actually in very good shape. Kurt was dancing around Sebastian, but he now wanted to not only see him but feel him too.

_Nos corps qui se frôlent _

_Qui se collent, s'entremêlent, _

_Et là sur ton épaule, se love un goût de sel…_

_(Our bodies are brushing against each other_

_They're stuck; they're becoming entangled_

_And there on your shoulder, a salty taste is coiling up)_

Kurt wasn't sober enough to understand everything, but the lyrics were definitely about bodies, dance and being close. Oh god. Like he needed that to be even harder than he already was. Just dancing at first for Sebastian and then with him had been enough of a turn on for him… He couldn't hold it any longer. He took Sebastian's face in his hands and planted a wet and drunken kiss on his mouth. Sebastian didn't need a better signal to start touching him everywhere he could in a public place, however accepting. Back, arms, torso, hair, ass, nothing was enough. Kurt was moaning in Sebastian's mouth. Their tongues were melting, there was biting at lower lips, at ears, kisses in the neck. They were both too drunk to understand what was exactly going on between them, except the feeling of close, _close_, and more.

They kissed passionately for several minutes until they were both panting. Kurt rested his head against Sebastian's jaw. When Sebastian started to lean in to kiss him again, Kurt pushed him away.

"Wait, Sebastian, stop."


	5. Heart Lies

Chapter 5 : Heart Lies

"Wait, Sebastian, stop."

Sebastian went to incredibly turned on to awfully frustrated in a heartbeat. There was _no way_ Kurt wanted this any less than him.

"What? Oh no, please don't tell me you don't usually do this, you're having second thoughts and all that crap. I'm not in the mood right now," Sebastian rambled.

Kurt grinned. "Shut up or I _will_ have second thoughts. I'm just not fucking you in a filthy toilet; let's go back to my hotel. It's not too far anyway."

Sebastian sighed in relief. "Oh. So it's just because you have _standards._ I should have expected that from you, princess."

"Less talking, more getting away from here," Kurt groaned.

Sebastian didn't need to be told twice. He quickly grabbed his jacket, took Kurt by the hand and they began to run out of the bar. They were chuckling like teenage girls, not paying attention to the other drunken people on the streets. The air was mild, the sky a very dark shade of blue, without any stars to be seen. But Kurt was tiring from the running.

"Sebastian wait, I've got a side stitch."

Sebastian pulled Kurt in the corner of a smaller street and pressed him to the wall.

"You're gonna need more endurance for tonight, you know that," He whispered, his breath hot against Kurt's sensitive skin. Kurt shivered.

The music of the bar next to them was resonating.

_We're not lovers we're not friends_

_And this is why it never ends_

_Let me know when you had too much of this_

"I'm going to take every ounce of energy you have left. You won't be able to leave your bed for days after I'm done with you," Kurt moaned at the thought.

_I'll be taking off your clothes_

_Before we even lock the door_

_I'm probably not the only one but do I care?_

_But do I need to know your name?_

"But you will still beg for it, beg until you pass out because it's gonna be so good."

_I'll be yours and you'll be mine till the morning comes_

_When I wake up you will be gone_

_Cause we aren't people you can rely on, anyway_

Kurt woke up from the trance Sebastian's words had put him in.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Smythe. Come on, let's go," He looked around to remember this moment. The street's name was "Rue des MauvaisGarçons" (Bad Boys' street). There was no way they ended up on this street accidentally. Kurt wondered if the dirty talk in this street was something Sebastian regularly did with his hookups. But that didn't really matter.

They began walking, a little calmer than before, but still looking at each other hungrily. They arrived at the hotel both having a hand in the other one's back pocket. When they got to the elevator, they were all over each other. They were finally kissing again, touching each other messily, wanting to be closer, closer, always closer. They struggled to walk to Kurt's room, and then to open the door. As soon as they entered, they were removing each other's shirts and Sebastian pushed Kurt against the wall. Kurt wrapped his legs around Sebastian's waist and his arms around his shoulders. Sebastian began to kiss, lick and bite everywhere he could. Kurt closed his eyes to focus on everything he was feeling; he was now breathing loudly.

"Bed, now!" Kurt managed. Sebastian liked his partners being bossy. It was a nice change; he usually was the one taking charge.

He carried Kurt to the bed where he collapsed on top of him.

"Too much clothes, too much clothes," Kurt mumbled.

They quickly removed their pants and boxers which landed somewhere on the floor. Kurt was now on top of Sebastian.

"Oh god, you have so many beauty spots. They're amazing," Kurt said. He began playing connect-the-dots with his tongue. He kissed the two on his left collarbone. He kissed his entire torso, his belly button, his hips, his thighs…

"I want to blow you," Kurt whispered.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" Sebastian panted impatiently. Kurt began licking at the swollen vein on the side of Sebastian's cock.

"Stop teasing!" Sebastian pleaded. Not even a second later, he was swallowed entirely by Kurt's wonderful mouth. His jaw dropped and the head of Sebastian's cock was bumping against the back of his throat. He had long ago learned that he hardly had a gag reflex. He began humming to send vibrations against Sebastian's cock.

"Oh _god_, you're _so good_!" Sebastian shouted. He knew he wasn't going to last long. But suddenly he felt cold. Kurt's mouth had disappeared.

"What are you _doing_? Come back here!" he whined.

"I want to hear you beg," Kurt said in a low voice. Just the words made Sebastian's cock twitch. Fuck his pride; he was going to let Kurt win this round.

"Please Kurt, just come suck my cock already!" Sebastian almost cried.

And just with that, Kurt's mouth was back on track and there was no teasing anymore. He was properly sucking Sebastian's cock, taking it as far as possible and then almost letting it go. He then focused on the head, licking at the sensitive spot just below it. It took Sebastian only a few more bobs to come hard in Kurt's mouth. Kurt swallowed it all and purred "Now I want you to fuck me just like you promised."

Sebastian groaned at the words and his cock twitched. As much as he wanted to, he really wasn't ready to be hard this soon. He rolled on top of Kurt and began sucking at his ear. He quickly learned, at the sounds he was making that it was indeed a very sensitive spot for Kurt. The high-pitched moans he was making made Sebastian grow hard again in a few seconds.

He got up to search for the condoms and lube he had in his jacket (a guy had to always be prepared, right?) and quickly climbed on the bed again. Kurt was patiently waiting for him, legs spread. Sebastian was salivating at this sight.

"Turn around, ass up," he ordered. Kurt did as he was told. Sebastian kissed Kurt's ass cheeks and spread them. He lubed his fingers and began massaging Kurt's hole. He then slowly let two fingers slip in entirely.

"Oh FUCK," Kurt shouted. It burned like hell, but the feeling was so good at the same time… Sebastian moved his fingers slowly in and out.

"More Sebastian, please, _more_," Kurt begged. Sebastian gladly obliged, adding a third finger and searching for Kurt's prostate. He immediately knew when he had hit it. The sounds Kurt was making were absolutely sinful and could probably wake the entire hotel but he couldn't care less. There were no words anymore, only incoherent shouts, moans, groans and whines.

"You ready?" Sebastian asked.

"Couldn't be any - ah - readier," Kurt mumbled.

Sebastian removed his fingers, rolled a condom on his cock and applied probably more lube than what is necessary. He pressed his cock at Kurt's entrance and began to enter. He was moving very slowly trying not to hurt Kurt, whose preparation had been relatively quick. When he was balls-deep in Kurt he let out a sigh he didn't know he had been holding.

Kurt's tried breathing deeply. The left side of his face was pressed against the mattress. His cock was itching for a touch and he was sure Sebastian's hands on his hips were going to left bruises but he had other things to focus on at the moment, like relaxing. After a minute everything went better.

"You can move," he said. Sebastian began thrusting very slowly into Kurt.

"Faster," Kurt panted.

But Sebastian had other ideas in mind. He was going to tease Kurt just like Kurt had teased him. His thrusts were painfully slow and the more Kurt was asking for more, the slower he went.

Kurt's orgasm was building inside of him. The teasing was hardly bearable but it was putting him on edge at the same time. And then, without any kind of warning, Sebastian pushed quickly and brutally inside of him and hit his prostate and Kurt came with a shout and he came hard.

The thought of Kurt coming untouched because of him put Sebastian over the edge. Not even a few seconds later he was coming too. His cock was pulsing into Kurt's ass and it was the best feeling _ever_.

Sebastian slipped out of Kurt, removed the condom and threw it in the bin.

"The sheets are disgusting," said Kurt with a tired voice.

"Whose fault is it? I'm not the one who came untouched," Sebastian said with a smirk.

Kurt felt like sticking out his tongue to Sebastian but decided it was too childish. He removed the sheets and lay down on the bed, Sebastian quickly joining him.

Before they fell asleep Kurt whispered: "I don't care, I'm the one who _made you beg._"


End file.
